3/5/2014

In preparing to share the following story, I searched The Gull Reef Club to determine if I had ever shared my previous, one and only, ghost-in-my-old-house story, and apparently I have not. So I owe you that one. I’ve already committed to the title of this post, therefore, you get the second ghost story first.

While I’ve not been convinced ghosts are real, I like the creative, sci-fi speculation ghost stories provide. Now, for your own edification and speculation: A few nights ago, Mike and I were in the kitchen preparing dinner. I went to the cabinet where we keep croutons to get them for our salads. I open the cabinet and a single item falls out, nearly on my head – the croutons. I joked that it was the ghost of the former lady of the kitchen who must have also been short of height and felt sorry for me. I then said out loud to the kitchen generally, “Thank you, Esther Neidlinger!” (Mrs. Neidlinger was one of the many former residents of my home, approximately from the late 40s/early 50s through late 60s).

As soon as I did that, the salad dressing sitting on the prep cart falls to the ground. I remarked to Mike, “Less skeptical people would have been sure we were visited by the ghost of Esther Neidlinger just now.” Of course he piles on, “Or maybe you named the wrong ghost and now he or she is mad at you.” Uh-oh! Or maybe we just had a strong surge of gravitational pull localized solely to our kitchen.

I really don’t know what happened there. Probably just a series of nicely timed coincidences. I promise to post my other ghost-in-my-old-house story and then you can decide if we are haunted.